


We Went Back (or what really should have happened on Teen Wolf)

by hellosterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Could Be Canon, M/M, Spoilers, contains spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:04:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosterek/pseuds/hellosterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Branching off the scene in episode "117" where Derek slams Stiles up against the door. Derek realizes something that startles both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Went Back (or what really should have happened on Teen Wolf)

Derek’s eyes narrowed at Stiles across the piles of food sitting between them, but he tampered his anger until Mr. McCall was out of earshot. He growled and grabbed a hold of Stiles’s hand, dragging him into Scott’s room, slamming the door shut by pushing Stiles’s up against it. He held Stiles to the door, his fingers digging into the teen’s cheek and hair, his teeth bared.

"What the hell, Stiles?"

Stiles grunted, flailing against the door, and he glanced behind him at Derek. “Uh, Derek, I can explain-“

He growled, fisting his hand tighter in Stiles’s hair. “You  _lied_  to me!”

”Of - of course I did!” Stiles flustered, hands flat against the door as he tried to push back against Derek to make him move away. Derek only slammed him harder to the door, Stiles’s head cracking painfully against the wood. Stiles groaned in pain, closing his eyes. “Ow, fuck! I thought we were past this!”

Derek faltered for a moment, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “Past this?”

Stiles groaned again, reaching behind him to try to wrench Derek’s hands from his hair. He really hadn’t meant for him to hear that comment, he hadn’t meant to say anything at all, but the comment slipped out in a whisper. He’d forgotten who he was dealing with. This was Derek. He may be younger but he was still a werewolf. He could still hear things no one else would be able to.

Stiles cussed and managed to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist, but Derek didn’t budge.

"What do you mean, we were past this?" Derek demanded, although his tone was hesitant.

Stiles made a gurgling sound in his throat, stalling for time as he scrabbled for something to say. He couldn’t tell Derek the truth. He doubted he’d believe him at this point. He’d already lied to the boy once, he would be expecting another lie. “Nothing, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Derek growled in frustration and pulled Stiles away from the door long enough to slam him back into it, Stiles’s cheek connecting with a rough crack. The boy ignored Stiles’s pained yelp and bared his teeth. “ _Stop lying to me!_ ”

Stiles shrunk into the wall, trying to appear smaller than he was. He wasn’t really afraid of Derek, not entirely. He wasn’t afraid of what Derek would do, but he was afraid of Derek being angry at him. He knew how to handle Derek’s anger when he was older, but not when he was…well, _his_  age. He was somehow more intimidating in youth than he was in adulthood. Go figure.

"I can - I can’t tell you," he stuttered, mouth curved down into a frown and eyes closed tightly. "Derek, I can’t."

The boy flared his nostrils for a moment before removing himself from Stiles, letting his hands fall to his sides as he watched Stiles closely. “Why can’t you?”

Stiles flopped himself around on the door, heaving in deep breaths as he slumped back, observing Derek. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “I just can’t, dude, okay?”

Derek glanced toward the floor, his eyebrows pulling together in thought. He didn’t know what to think. He was so confused about everything. Waking up in the vet clinic with people he didn’t know saying his name, going home and finding his house burned and torn down, finding out that there weren’t many survivors. His family was dead. He was surrounded by people he didn’t know, people who seemed so familiar  _and_  unfamiliar, who kept  _lying_  to him. Who was he supposed to trust? Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to  _do_?

Stiles noticed Derek’s crestfallen expression and his eyes widened as he took a tentative step closer, only to have Derek stumble back a few steps with his hand out, as if making sure some space stayed between them. When Derek looked at Stiles, Stiles’s heart stuttered. Derek looked so heartbroken, so  _devastated_. He hadn’t seen that look on him since Boyd died. He wanted to reach forward and touch him, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this, but he couldn’t. Derek was afraid of him, of what this was, of whatever was happening. Derek didn’t trust anyone.

They were back to square one, not trusting each other even though they needed each other to survive. Derek needed him to get through this, he just didn’t know if he could trust his help.

Stiles took another step forward, uneasy on his feet, and grabbed Derek’s wrist before he could move away again. Derek’s eyes widened in alarm and he pulled at his arm, trying to escape Stiles’s grasp, but Stiles’s grip tightened and he took another step forward, more confident than before.

"Derek," he said hesitantly, taking a step forward for every step Derek took backward. It wasn’t until Derek’s back hit the wall that Stiles realized the fear in Derek’s eyes, the vulnerability. Stiles didn’t dare to get any closer, afraid he’d scare him even more.

Derek’s eyes were wondering, welling up with tears as he glanced from Stiles’s fingers to his eyes, his eyebrows drawn together. “How do you even know me? How do I know you?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he shook his head. “I can’t tell you that either.”

Derek’s jaw tightened as he slumped back against the wall and looked toward the ceiling, unable to look at him anymore. His voice was low and wavering as he asked, “Why can’t you tell me anything?”

Stiles’s hand sank lower on Derek’s wrist, his fingers grazing the boy’s palm lightly.

Derek looked down at their hands, breathing unsteadily. “You’re-“ The boy quickly dropped Derek’s hand, assuming he didn’t want to be touched, but Derek reached for it again, gazing at it in wonder. He looked up at Stiles with wide, confused eyes. “You’re my anchor.”

Stiles’s heart stumbled clumsily in his chest and he took a sharp breath, pulling his hand free. “I’m -  _what_?”

Derek took a step closer, observing the boy more closely, eyes moving from head to toe as if evaluating something.

"My anchor," he repeated quietly, eyes now searching Stiles’s. He shook his head gently, not looking away. "How can you be my anchor if I don’t remember you?"

Stiles swallowed hard, glancing back down at their hands as Derek’s fingers moved to graze his knuckles. He hadn’t known about Derek’s anchor. He didn’t understand how that was possible. He knew Derek no longer hated him, but hadn’t realized he’d grown so… _fond_  of him. He shook his head silently, lost in his own thoughts. “I don’t know.”

Derek breathed steadily, aware of the murmur of Stiles’s heart as he tried to comprehend what Derek had just said. He didn’t know who Stiles was or how they knew each other, all he knew was that the simple touch of Stiles’s hand against his had kept him from losing himself to his emotions, from slamming Stiles’s head hard against the wood of the door and from running away when Stiles had gotten too close. Even now he could feel himself calming, the confusing swirl of conflicting emotions settling for the time being. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he knew he could trust Stiles. Stiles wasn’t a threat, not one that was going to actually hurt him anyway. The damn moles that scattered across his pale skin would probably be the death of him, but that was probably just his hormones talking.

"I trust you," he stated into the silence, bringing Stiles’s hand to rest over his heart as he repeated it so Stiles could feel how steady it was.

He didn’t care that, as far as he could remember, he’d only just met Stiles. The boy had already been more helpful to him than any of his friends ever were and Stiles was someone he could share his secret with. He didn’t have to pretend to be something that he wasn’t. He didn’t have to be afraid of shifting in front of him or accidentally saying something that would expose himself. He could be himself and he was thankful for that.

Stiles offered him a shocked and wobbly smile before throwing his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pulling him tightly against his chest. Derek squawked in surprise, his arms slowly moving to wrap around Stiles. He felt something in his chest settle at the embrace, something in him that had become unraveled suddenly tying together again and pulling tight. He sighed and rested his head on Stiles’s shoulder, breathing in the scent that was so oddly familiar and knowing that Stiles would help him, no matter how terrifying things got. He could rely on Stiles to be there for him.

"I trust you."

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found on my [Baby!Derek RP account](http://rpbabyderek.tumblr.com/post/90435784340/we-went-back-or-what-really-should-have-happened-on)


End file.
